


Seduction & Betrayal: A Dessert Tragedy

by twofrontteethstillcrooked



Series: Whumptober [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Gen, snippetfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:20:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27072613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twofrontteethstillcrooked/pseuds/twofrontteethstillcrooked
Summary: Whumptober 2020: brainwashing; coughing up blood
Relationships: Grantaire & Bossuet Laigle
Series: Whumptober [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975861
Kudos: 5





	Seduction & Betrayal: A Dessert Tragedy

“–Furthermore, what is any simple man supposed to do, when confronted with the great expansive labyrinth of purported luxuries such stores build to lure in and then trap even the bravest and most austere of shoppers? One walks into a market with the puritan intention to purchase, say, a bundle of organic carrots grown in soil well tended by local farmers so golden of heart they shine in sunlight, and you leave an hour later, finances decimated, arms laden with chemically processed malformations as far from the natural sources of sustenance as Frankenstein’s ogre was from the sanctity of the grave–”

“Grantaire,” Bossuet interrupted. “Did you buy carrots or not? The slaw is mostly carrots. If we don’t have carrots, we have to either fix another dish for the pot luck or we have to go back to the store.”

“Ah.” Grantaire scratched his chin. “No. I did, however, buy the single worst box of brownie mix Satan ever concocted.” He frowned at the square pan of what looked like slightly dried up mud that rested in the kitchen sink. “It was a form of brainwashing, my flightiest L'Aigle de Meaux: I turned the corner from the casks brimming with Pliny’s truth to an aisle stocked with seemingly infinite packages of this, this–” He flung a hand towards the pan. “–This petty scam. This hypnotic promise of decadent fudge and nearly pornographically easy ecstasy. But it was indeed all lies. Should you and your hardscrabble revolutionary comrades need to erect a barricade later today these brownies will only then serve a purpose and spare a cobblestone,” he ended bitterly.

“Are you bleeding?” Bossuet asked, eyes widening with sudden surprise as he focused on Grantaire’s face for the first time since arriving home.

Grantaire wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and studied the smear left. “Maraschino cherries,” he said. 

It wasn’t much of an explanation, but then Bossuet saw the half empty jar on the counter. He sighed to himself, resigned to his fate. “Guess I’ll put those on the grocery list too.”


End file.
